


Suitably Impressed

by fictocriticism



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M, Porn With Plot, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictocriticism/pseuds/fictocriticism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for a prompt at the GKM (basically requesting suit porn in the aftermath of the SAG awards).</p>
    </blockquote>





	Suitably Impressed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the GKM (basically requesting suit porn in the aftermath of the SAG awards).

Darren locked the stall door behind him and let his head thump onto it. _God, what a disaster_. He went to run a hand through his hair before catching himself - his stylist would never let him hear the end of it if he managed to fuck it up. It took a ridiculous amount of time to make it sit right in the first place. He took a deep breath and tried to slow his heartbeat. Inside the stall where no one could see him, he dared to loosen his tie just a fraction. He could feel sweat starting to prickle on the collar of his shirt and he wanted nothing more than to fling the whole thing off and try again in a t-shirt.   
  
Who knows what the media would say to that though.   
  
Just the thought of the media had Darren nearly groaning aloud. He couldn’t believe how he had managed to make such a fool of himself in that interview. Chris joked about their kissing scenes all the time, and usually Darren could keep up him. It hadn’t been a problem last season. Chris’ cigarette lines hadn’t made an impact and Darren usually laughed it off, or responded with an equally outrageous comment. Ever since The First Time episode though, Darren had been struggling to just shrug off the discussion about their kissing technique. He wished he could.   
  
Deciding there was no point hiding anymore, he straightened himself up and headed out to the basins. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, taking careful note of his perfected hair and crisp suit. His eyes gave nothing away, which Darren knew he should be grateful for. Because what they would be saying, if they could, was that Darren didn’t want to shrug off Chris’ kissing jokes. He wanted to know what Chris thought for real. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly in the mirror as he finally admitted to himself what he had been hiding for too long.   
  
He wanted Chris to think he was a good kisser. He wanted Chris to have enjoyed himself as much as Darren did. And most of all, he wanted to kiss him again. As Chris and Darren. Not Kurt and Blaine.   
  
The door pushed open and Darren flinched back from where he was leaning hard over the basins.   
  
“Darren!”   
  
_Of course_. As Chris walked into the bathroom, Darren couldn’t help but drink in the sight of his co-star. He’d been back on set for a couple of scenes before tonight but he hadn’t time to really run his eyes over Chris’ form. He was wearing an obscenely well-fitted suit with a subtle black tie. Chris wore formal wear well . The pants clung in all the right spots, tight enough to accentuate his hips and thighs. The jacket stretched just right across his shoulders. Darren thought it wasn’t that different from his until Chris came a little closer and he caught the shimmering detail on his sleeves. His hair was swept up, eyes glowing from the buzz and the crowd.   
  
_Damn_. Chris looked good.   
  
Chris looked _excellent_.   
  
And Darren was in for a difficult night.   
  
“So Kevin mentioned I should ask how your interviews went tonight. What’s that all about?” Chris was looking closely at himself in the mirror, unconsciously copying Darren’s behaviour from just a moment ago, checking his face and collar.   
  
Darren inwardly vowed to find Kevin and kick his ass before the night was finished.   
  
“Oh, just the usual, really,” he said lamely, unable to stop looking at the shiny detailing on the back of Chris’ jacket.   
  
Chris chuckled lightly and Darren quickly dragged his eyes up only to meet the other man’s in the mirror. He felt a slight flush creeping up his neck at being caught out staring.   
  
“Come on, Dare. Tell me. They are always horrible. I’ve told you some of my horror stories.”  
  
“It was just--,” Darren started, then sighed. “They asked about the kissing scenes again.”   
  
Chris frowned. “Jeez, Dare. I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s uncomfortable for you. But you know they’re going to keep asking, right? I mean, regardless of the fact that you’re straight, they think that’s what the fans want to know.”  
  
Darren flinched a little at the reminder of his supposed sexuality. It wasn’t that easy in his head, but he knew that the media would be unable to cope with the nuances of his perceptions.   
  
“It’s not uncomfortable, Chris. Come on, you know that. I just froze and couldn’t get my sentences out. I don’t know what I was thinking. I sounded like an idiot.”  
  
 _Sounded like you were lovestruck_.   
  
Chris smirked. “The power of my kissing does that, they say.”  
  
Darren quirked an eyebrow up in response, feeling a little more at ease now that Chris was back to joking with him.   
  
“Who says?”   
  
“Oh, you know,” he said airily. When Darren was clearly unappeased by that answer, he said “Heather does.”  
  
Darren choked out a laugh and tried to ignore the uncomfortable clenching in his stomach. How was he so difficult to tell the difference between Chris joking and Chris flirting? Why was he suddenly behaving like a twelve year old girl?   
  
He knew was going to have to go back out there to the cameras and their co-stars, and Lea with her sneakily inquisitive looks like she just _knew_ what he was thinking. In a moment of insanity, he wondered if he could get Chris to feel as off-balance as him.   
  
He darted forward so he was up in Chris’ space and smoothed his hands gently down the front of his suit. Darren’s hand smoothed over the detailing and he thrilled a little at the feel of the material under his fingers. Chris looked _delicious_ in formal wear.   
  
“You know, maybe I like sounding like an idiot,” he said and then he leaned in and kissed him.   
  
He felt Chris’ gasp of surprise rather than heard it but he powered through. His hands wandered over the lapels of his jacket and up to the design on his shoulders. He let his mouth move gently, deepening the kiss just a touch when it was obvious Chris wasn’t pulling away.   
  
This wasn’t Blaine kissing Kurt. This was Darren kissing Chris and it was glorious. He felt heat burning low in his stomach as he felt Chris’ hand land lightly on his hip. This was no inexperienced teenager like Kurt, even if Darren was feeling a little like the prom episode had come to life. When Chris bit onto his bottom lip Darren inhaled sharply and grabbed the other man’s neck tightly, pulling him as close as he could.   
  
Suddenly the sound of the orchestra playing the opening song could be heard through the bathroom speakers, with a notice to encourage everyone to take their seats. Darren pulled back and watched as Chris’ eyes slowly opened. His cheeks were tinged red, pupils blown, but otherwise completely immaculate. He was the most gorgeous thing Darren had ever seen. His breath hitched once more as he took in the hungry expression Chris was wearing.   
  
“Need a cigarette?” Darren asked as cheekily as he could muster considering how turned on he was, before getting the hell out of there as fast as he could.   
  
***  
  
Throughout the ceremony, Darren could feel Chris’ eyes boring into him from his seat on the opposite side of the table. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at his co-star every now and again. Darren tried very hard not to notice the way Chris fidgeted with his tie, smoothed his lapels, and checked his hair. He tried not to notice when Chris laughed, throwing his head back and highlighting the long line of his neck. He tried not to notice when Chris leaned in to talk to Jane and twisted just enough to stretch his jacket taut across his shoulders, light bouncing off the shiny detailing. Darren tried not to do a lot of things, but as usual, Chris defied all of Darren’s attempts.   
  
When Chris caught his eye and then deliberately took a long sip of his drink, pursing his lips around the straw, Darren’s patience snapped. He stood up quickly - in the middle of a presentation, hopefully the cameras wouldn’t catch him - and nearly knocked over his chair in his haste to get to the bathroom and just breathe for a second.   
  
He pushed open the door and found himself leaning over the basin again, but this time his eyes were wild. He quickly wet his hands under the tap and touched two fingertips carefully to his neck, trying vainly to cool himself off.   
  
_You are going to sit down and get through this award ceremony_ , Darren told his reflection sternly. _And then you will wave politely to everyone as you leave. You will apologise to Chris for kissing him inappropriately and you will stop thinking about him in any kind of sexual fashion_.   
  
Darren spent the rest of the ceremony subtly drinking when the cameras weren’t watching. He didn’t want to get messy, but he needed some liquid courage to make sure he remembered how to act like a normal human being rather than just a sex-crazed Chris fanatic. The night carried on, and the rest of the cast talked about after parties. Darren, fluctuating between arousal and exhaustion, just wanted to go home, rip off his suit, and collapse. He was staying overnight at a hotel - he’d needed the space for his stylist earlier in the day, and it was just easier to get out of the way rather than be at his own place. He was suddenly quite pleased for the solitude that awaited him. He might just have a long soak in the bathtub and officially put his Chris thoughts to rest. After indulging in them one last time.   
  
As the ceremony wrapped up, he made his goodbyes and rolled his eyes at Lea’s veiled innuendo. Chris had disappeared, so he resolved to send him a text when he got home. He wasn’t going to go looking for him. Who knew what his fool mouth would manage to blurt out if he did?   
  
He was close to his car when he was intercepted. He desperately hoped that it wasn’t one of the other’s encouraging him out. It felt like ages since he’d seen them, what with being in New York, but he just didn’t have the energy tonight. If he was honest, he wanted to spend some time alone before he put ‘Operation: Get Over Chris’ officially on the table.   
  
The hand pulling on his arm tightened and he spun around, excuses already on his lips.   
  
“I’m really not keen to--, Chris!” Darren felt his heart speed up and cursed his traitorous physical reactions.   
  
“Not going to an after party?” Chris asked, raising a sculpted brow.   
  
Darren shook his head mutely, too nervous to say anything in case he babbled incoherently.   
  
“Me neither. I’m exhausted. You at a hotel tonight as well?”  
  
They were surrounded by cars and drivers, but otherwise it was a fairly secluded area. Still, Darren did a quick scan for paparazzi before nodding quickly. Chris’ eyes were a little bright, probably due to the drinks he consumed during the ceremony. Darren could barely concentrate on the conversation, his eyes constantly finding the seams of Chris’ suit and watching how the material shifted with each subtle movement of his body.   
  
“Great. Want to grab a quick drink to catch up before you go to sleep?”  
  
Chris was acting as cool as a cucumber and Darren wasn’t sure if that bothered or pleased him. It was exactly what he wanted in order for his ‘Stop Objectifying Chris’ plan to work. However, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that their bathroom encounter, currently a definite stand out of _his_ evening, hadn’t generated more of a reaction.   
  
But how could he say no? The man was all long lines and high cheekbones, and Darren already knew his personality like the back of his hand. As long as he could keep himself together, why shouldn’t he enjoy Chris’ company?   
  
Darren took a deep breath and decided that he would give himself this one night to obsess over Chris Colfer. But that was it. Tomorrow, he would be a new man. A man who was Chris’ friend, not desperately wanting to get into his pants.   
  
“Sure, Chris. That would be great. How about we just go to the hotel bar? Or I can request something up to the room if there are people around?”  
  
Chris smiled warmly at him and Darren felt his stomach clench in that somewhat familiar way. This was going to be tough.   
  
***  
  
The ride to the hotel hadn’t been too bad. Darren thought he was only caught out staring once, but when Chris had leant forward to talk to the driver how was he not supposed to check out the way his pants highlighted his ass? It was spectacular. It would have been more criminal _not_ to notice.   
  
The hotel bar was a little busy and the front desk staff assured him that ordering to the room might be easier. Apparently they had already seen some paparazzi lurking. He took their drink orders and promised to have something for them quickly.   
  
Darren carefully watched Chris out of the corner of his eye during the elevator ride. Chris was chatting away about the ceremony, mentioning how much he had enjoyed _The Help_ and asking if Darren had seen it. Darren managed to nod and smile in the right places, but mostly he was admiring the way that Chris was just starting to look a little less perfectly put together. He had unbuttoned his jacket and Darren could see where his dress shirt was a touch crumpled at the waist. His hair was starting to droop slightly. Somehow he looked even better like this.   
  
He slid his card into the door and ushered Chris in before him. The room was nothing exceptional - a queen bed took up the majority of the space, although there was an alcove where he had changed that afternoon. The bathroom had a bathtub and separate shower. They had all become used to hotel rooms after months on tour around the world, so Darren could safely say that this one was absolutely fine. He didn’t get excited over complimentary soaps and coffee sachets anymore. Their drinks were already poured and waiting, standing alongside a bottle of champagne. Darren was impressed with how quickly the staff had accomplished that. He couldn’t help but be grateful that he wouldn’t have to wait too long for a bit more alcohol to steady his nerves.   
  
There was only one chair. Darren pulled it out from the alcove and set it a little nearer to the bed, offering it to Chris. The other man nodded and then excused himself to the bathroom.   
  
Darren took the opportunity to slip off his shoes and loosen his tie. He glanced quickly at the bathroom door, settled himself on the bed as comfortably as he could, and tried to calm himself down.   
  
_Chris is in the bathroom. HERE. In the room._   
  
He realised his foot was tapping incessantly and forced himself to stop.   
  
_Be cool_.   
  
They were just going to have a drink and then Chris was going to leave and all would be well. Darren was going to behave like a normal adult who hadn’t just kissed his co-worker in the bathroom at a celebrity award event. He certainly wasn’t going to remember how good Chris’ lips had felt against his and how desperately he wanted to try coaxing more sounds out of him. Maybe he could hear that little whimper Chris sometimes made when filming.   
  
Darren shook his head frantically, as if trying to physically dislodge the thoughts from his head. Now would not be the time to try and conceal an erection in his pants.   
  
_FOCUS_ , he told himself sharply.   
  
Chris re-entered the room with his hair even more ruffled, his shirt untucked and his tie hanging loose.   
  
“Ugh, I can’t wait to get out of this suit!” Chris exclaimed dramatically. He grabbed his rum and coke (diet, obviously) and settled into the chair, flicking his shoes off with his feet.   
  
Darren chuckled, taking the time to unbutton his jacket and scrunching his hands in his hair.   
  
“I know. My hair always feels like a dead animal by the end of the night. I mean, obviously it’s ridiculous when it’s curly, but sometimes it would be nice not to have to wash it out before I go to bed, you know?”   
  
“Mmm, exactly. The things we do for fashion.” Chris took a long sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving Darren’s.   
  
“That said,” he continued, “I like your hair curly.”   
  
Darren laughed weakly, cursing the blush that was undoubtedly staining his cheeks.  “Uh, thanks.”   
  
“I’m serious! It’s adorable. You should wear it curly more often.”  
  
“Well, I like your hair too.”  
  
Chris rolled his eyes. “Darren, I’m not challenging you to some kind of compliment battle. You don’t have to respond in kind. Just say thank you and move on.”  
  
Darren leaned back on his hands, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed.   
  
“I’m not just responding in kind. I mean it. Your hair looked great tonight.” He kicked his feet up at Chris to emphasise his point.   
  
Chris raised an eyebrow as if to say, _Are you really going to do this?_  
  
Darren laughed, almost giddy now that he was here with Chris, away from cameras and more relaxed than he had felt all night. The pressure of the evening had passed and he was remembering how easy it was to enjoy himself in Chris’ company. He had missed this in New York.   
  
“You’re insane,” Chris scoffed, but his tone was light.   
  
“I’m telling the truth!”   
  
“Well, regardless, it’s certainly not looking at its finest now,” Chris grimaced as his hand caught on a couple of strands, pulling to loosen the hair spray’s hold.   
  
“It’s perfect,” Darren said in a low voice.   
  
Darren winced. He wasn’t meant to sound quite so... turned on. He tore his gaze from Chris quickly, trying to regain some control of the situation.   
  
The silence continued.   
  
When he gathered enough courage to look back, Chris was staring at him with an unreadable expression. He was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, ankle resting on the opposite knee. Darren could see the skin over the top of his sock, peeking out from beneath his trousers. _God_. Was there anything that Chris did that _wasn’t_ sexy?   
  
Then he was moving. He stood up from the chair in a fluid movement, his suit rustling quietly. He walked slowly towards the bed, keeping his eyes fixed on Darren’s. His eyes were darker now, less alcohol running through his system. He reached the edge of the bed, leaned down and gripped Darren’s thigh.   
  
Darren inhaled sharply, immediately feeling his cock twitch at the contact.   
  
Chris put his knee up on the bed, between Darren’s legs and shifted his weight over Darren’s frozen body. His hand shifted minutely, the fingers slipping on the smooth material of Darren’s suit pants. The sudden proximity of Chris’ hand to Darren’s cock was overwhelming. And just like that, Darren’s willpower was shot. All he could smell was Chris’ cologne and his arms could no longer hold him. They dropped out from underneath him, leaving him lying on his back with Chris’ eyes burning into him.   
  
“Chris--,” he almost whimpered, incredibly turned on by this assertive, masculine Chris. “What are you doing?”  
  
Darren watched as Chris’ eyes darkened even further and he brought his other leg up onto the bed, allowing him to fall forward onto his hands bringing him directly into Darren’s eye line.   
  
“Feeling tongue tied yet?” he asked with another of those arched eyebrows.   
  
Darren laughed breathlessly and nodded.   
  
God, was he feeling tongue tied. He felt like he could hardly _breathe_ , let alone speak. His entire world had reduced down to Chris and the way his throat was visible through the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt. Darren ached to reach up and kiss his way up that stretch of skin, bite under his neck and see if he could make Chris Colfer squirm.   
  
His body was nearly thrumming with excitement and he knew his hardening cock would be visible through his suit pants, now feeling constricting and uncomfortable. He shifted slightly, trying to relieve the ache, only to accidentally press himself against Chris’ thigh.   
  
Chris groaned low in his throat, the sound buzzing through Darren and making him pant with anticipation.   
  
“God, Dare, you just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Chris spat out. He sat up quickly and made quick work of Darren’s tie, ripping it off and undoing the buttons on his dress shirt with an astonishing speed. Without so much as a pause, he was leaning down and licking long, hot stripes up Darren’s chest.   
  
“ _Fuck_.” Darren’s hips thrust up uncontrollably and he felt his eyes slip closed at the feeling of Chris’ tongue.   
  
“I wasn’t going to push you. I was going to leave you alone like a respectable human being, but no. You have to go and look absolutely edible in that suit and _kiss_ me in the bathroom and now I just...”   
  
Chris’ sentence trailed off as he continued licking his way up to Darren’s neck, sucking wetly on the underside of his chin. Darren couldn’t help the groan the erupted from his chest when he felt Chris bite carefully. He wouldn’t leave a mark, couldn’t leave a mark - not when they were due back on set on Monday. But Darren knew how much he wanted to, and the idea left Darren shaking.   
  
This was actually _happening_.   
  
Darren surged upwards, wrapping his hands tightly around Chris’ shoulders. The other man was pulled off balance and he fell forwards, landing on top of Darren, their legs deliciously intertwined. Darren didn’t stop, just kept pressing up towards Chris until their lips finally met.   
  
This kiss was nothing like the one in the bathroom. This was like the tension between them had ignited. It was filthy and wet. Darren could feel Chris’ tongue delve deeply into his mouth, as if he was trying to devour him. Their lips shifted over and over until Darren couldn’t stand it. He pulled away, trying to catch his breath.   
  
“Oh god, Chris,” he moaned.  
  
Chris took that moment to run his hands down Darren’s front, fisting his hands into the open dress shirt.   
  
“You look fucking hot in this suit. Jesus.”  
  
Darren gasped at the clear arousal in Chris’ voice, wondering when this became his life. He undid Chris’ buttons as fast as he could, fumbling madly and trying desperately to stop from just bucking his hips up. Chris had his hands on his waistband now, but Darren knew he wasn’t going to last long enough for that. With a soft cry of triumph, he pushed open Chris’ shirt and ran his hands from his shoulders down along his sides, taut muscles clenching in response. Chris arched his back with a groan, inadvertently thrusting his cock alongside Darren’s.   
  
“Ohhhh fuck,” Darren said again, unable to help himself. He pushed his hips up again, hoping Chris would get the hint.   
  
He did, and he started a rhythm, rocking his hips in time with Darren’s just so. Chris was panting now, one hand rubbing along Darren’s stomach, feeling where his abs were clenching with exertion. The other hand was gripping the lapel of his jacket in order to tug Darren’s mouth up for another kiss. Darren knew there were sounds coming out of his mouth that should be embarrassing but all he could focus on was the feel of Chris’ cock sliding so close to his, knowing that he was responsible for this man coming undone above him.   
  
It was better than anything he had imagined. Chris started gasping with every thrust and Darren felt heat all the way to his toes. He grabbed Chris’ ass, palming it through those tight pants and pulled the other man down hard.   
  
“Chris, I’m gonna--, _fuck_ , I’m--,” was all he managed before he was bucking up once, twice more, and then coming hot and messy inside his suit pants. Chris keened above him, grinding one final time and then shuddering his way through his orgasm. He collapsed on Darren bonelessly, mouthing gently at his neck, breathing loudly.   
  
“Oh god. That was...,” Chris began.   
  
“Hot. So fucking hot. Oh my _god_ , Chris,” Darren babbled in response.   
  
Chris smiled the satisfied smirk of a man who got what he wanted.   
  
“Well, now we know what you’ll say in the next interview, don’t we?”   
  
Darren snorted.   
  
“Chris is a great kisser. Particularly when straddling me in a designer tuxedo. It’s better when he lets me come. The end,” he grinned cheekily.  
  
Chris bit into the soft flesh of his shoulder, and Darren’s heartbeat sped up all over again.   
  
“Keep that up and I’ll have to make sure you learn your lesson properly.”  
  
“Oh? Wouldn’t want me to spill the wrong details to the media, would we? Imagine what the fans would think.”  
  
“Come on, Dare. The fans would think it was fucking phenomenal.”  
  
Darren laughed, feeling too blissed out to really worry about the consequences. He knew they would have to talk about it, think it through, but as for right now - he was just grateful that Chris looked so fucking good in a suit and that neither of them could keep their hands to themselves.   
  
Chris shifted off Darren, rolling on to his side. His suit pants clearly showed the wet patch resulting from their activities, his shirt open and exposing his pale skin, the jacket still shimmering beautifully. He looked deliciously rumpled, and well, _fucked_. Darren swallowed thickly and hoped desperately that he would be allowed to do this again. Chris looked _amazing_ in formal wear. But he had a sneaking suspicion that Chris would look fucking fantastic wearing nothing at all.   
_  
_


End file.
